


Free Time

by Narassi



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-typical language, Gen, More characters to be added as they appear - Freeform, Not Shippy, Wash needs a break, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7816264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narassi/pseuds/Narassi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donut finds Wash sound asleep in the rec room. This is shocking for two reasons:<br/>1. Wash generally doesn't sleep just anywhere.<br/>2. Wash is asleep.<br/>It takes most of the base to figure out how to get Agent Washington to sleep for more than 2 hours each night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Agent Sleepyhead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CerealMonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerealMonster/gifts).



> Yet another fic that comes from deep, spiritual conversations with my Donut-loving mutual on Tumblr.  
> Ha. In reality, I get ideas randomly, send them, we bounce ideas around in every direction, and then I turn it into a fic. It's pretty great. 
> 
> Just some fluff between Donut and Wash. It's not meant to be shippy at all. I'll have at least one more chapter up in the future (I have yet to write it but don't worry, it'll happen). Enjoy!  
> I finished this like 20 minutes ago, it's not beta-read or anything, so any remaining mistakes are all mine. I'd love it if you left a comment for me!

Donut hummed on his way to the rec room set aside for the Reds and Blues. It was almost time for his daily wine and cheese hour, and this time he’d brought sparkling cider along with the wine so the lieutenants could join in. He had sent word along to the Reds and the lieutenants + Matthews, so he would have to cut more cheese and bread than usual, as well as put an extra leaf in the table. Donut thanked his lucky stars that the door to the rec room had a _handle_ instead of a knob as he opened it with a skillful twist of his hips. He hip-checked the door closed most of the way, not bothering to latch it. On his way to dump his supplies on the couch, however, he saw something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Wash was curled up in a ball on the couch, sound asleep.

Donut blinked. He blinked again. He walked backwards out the door, leaving it partially closed again, and set his supplies down on the floor as quietly as he could. He then walked back into the rec room and stood in front of the sleeping Freelancer.

Donut sighed. He knew Wash had trouble sleeping. He’d known since the time they’d spent in the Federal Army base—he and Sarge had been woken up by the other man’s nightmares multiple times each night.

Donut pulled his little tablet out of his back pocket and looked up the shared schedule the Reds and Blues used. He looked for the color grey and—yep, Wash had a meeting with Kimball ten minutes ago. He also had another meeting with Carolina in twenty minutes. And training in forty.

Donut looked around for a minute, deciding what to do. With a shrug, he sent a message to his team and to the lieutenants: “Donut’s Daily Wine and Cheese Hour Cancelled”, before adding another: “Meet me in Kimball’s meeting room in ten minutes”, and sent it to Tucker and Caboose as well. He grabbed a blanket from the rocking chair and carefully draped it over Wash’s hunched form, smiling when the Freelancer didn’t so much as twitch. He then pulled a piece of paper and marker out of Caboose’s crafts section of their bookshelf and wrote “DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT DONUT’S PERMISSION, OR WINE, CHEESE, AND COOKIES WILL BE WITHELD”. With a satisfied nod, he taped it to the door. He closed the door again, quietly gathered his supplies in his arms, and booked it to his room. He had a plan.

 

Five minutes later, Donut skidded to a halt outside of Kimball’s meeting room. “Agent Washington, where in the _world_ have you _been_ —” Kimball yelled as the door opened, “—oh, Donut. Sorry about that. Have you seen Wash?” Donut closed the door behind him and sat down across from her. “He was supposed to meet with me fifteen minutes ago.”

Donut nodded slowly. “About that...” he trailed off dramatically.

Kimball’s brow creased. “Is he alright?” she asked.

Donut shrugged. “I found him sound asleep in the rec room,” he said, “and you and I both know Wash doesn’t fall asleep just anywhere.” Kimball blinked slowly at him, the dots not connecting. “He’s exhausted. I think he’s overworked. He’d never just fall asleep when he had a meeting planned!”

Kimball slumped in her chair for a moment before straightening. “Let me see what his schedule is like.” When she pulled up the schedule on her own screen, Donut moved to sit next to her. She changed the view of the schedule to only show Wash’s activities and they both gasped. Donut stared at the schedule open-mouthed for a solid thirty seconds before recovering.

“When does he eat?!” Donut shrieked, “When does he sleep? When does he sit down for thirty seconds—goodness!”

Kimball looked visibly shaken. “I had no idea he’d filled up his schedule so thoroughly,” she said slowly, “I’m going to change this. He can’t keep doing this. He goes on three different runs in the morning so that he can run with three different groups!”

Donut pointed to a break in the activities, “His lunch break is five minutes long. Five minutes! That’s how long it takes to get through the cafeteria lunch line!”

Kimball squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Okay, okay. We need to change this, but we can’t just leave people hanging. We have to get more people in on this so that they’re not lost and depending on him when he isn’t there.”

Donut nodded. “It’s a good thing I sent a message for all of the Reds and Blues—plus the Lieutenants!—to join us in...” Donut looked at the time on Kimball’s screen, “...um, right now!”

Kimball looked at him for a moment like she didn’t believe him, before a knock at the door startled her. She looked between Donut and the door a few times before she shrugged. “I’m not even mad,” she mumbled as she got up and opened the door.

A cacophony of noise assaulted them.

“Is Donut alright?” Simmons demanded.

“He sent the message—” Palomo.

“Donut _never_ cancels his wine and cheese hour!” Sarge.

“He threatened to take away our snacks!” Grif.

“Quiet!” Kimball yelled, effectively silencing the group. “Donut is fine. We need to talk to you. Now. Get in here.” The group dissolved into relieved mumbles upon seeing the pink soldier, and sat around the table. After the quiet shuffling settled down, Kimball turned on the big screen in the front of the room. “Donut brought something to my attention,” she announced. 

Grif put his face in his hands. “Oh, here we go.”

Kimball ignored him. “Right now, I’m supposed to be meeting with Agent Washington. He failed to arrive.” _That_ got everyone’s attention, Donut noted in satisfaction.

Simmons looked around. “Wh-where is he?”

Donut crossed his arms. “Sound asleep on the couch of the rec room,” he said, “He didn’t wake up when I opened the door, or when I put a blanket on him.”

Grif's eyes widened comically. "Ohh, so  _that's_ why you left that note on the door!" 

Sarge mirrored Donut's position. “Agent Wash doesn’t fall asleep just anywhere,” he noted. Donut shook his head.

Kimball pulled up the main schedule on the big screen. “We took a look at Wash’s individual schedule,” she said as she pulled it up, “And found _this_.”

Simmons gasped. Grif choked on his own spit—or the candy Donut had given him earlier—and sputtered, “What the actual _fuck_?!” It took a little longer for it to sink in for everyone else, but Donut heard a few more gasps and muttered exclamations. Tucker looked positively horrified.

“We need to clear this as much as possible,” Kimball continued, “At least in the morning and night. He needs to get decent sleep. I know we all need his expertise, but we can’t keep doing this. We’re running him into the ground.”

Tucker raised his hand. “Okay, for one thing, one run in the morning is hell on earth. _Three?!_ We need to either get rid of those or cycle them on different days. Give him at least one free day to run by himself.” Kimball nodded and deleted two of the runs each morning, leaving one day with an activity that just said “Morning run: do not disturb”.

Simmons cleared his throat. “Wash and I work on decrypting the orders and messages we find and overhear just before lunch every other day. It cuts into lunch a little. He taught me how to do it; if you were to assign someone else to help me out, I could manage without him.” Kimball nodded and deleted the activity for every day except Wednesday, leaving a small slice of time for “Check on Simmons and Jensen—decoding and decrypting”.

Sarge grunted. “He has two separate blocks for training us Reds and training the Blues.” The man paused, eyeing Tucker and Caboose suspiciously, before continuing, “Now I don’t like training with the dirty blues, but I’ll make an exception for Agent Sleepyhead.” Kimball condensed the two activities into one.

Palomo raised his hand, mirroring Tucker. “Um, he trains with each of our squads individually. I think, at this point, the Captains could manage without him every day? Like—he could work with a different squad every day. That way the Captains can work on training us, too. ‘Cause, I mean, he works with all of us anyways. We train with the Feds all the time now. He does that, too. Every. Day.” Kimball sighed. She continued making adjustments here and there, until Wash had time to eat and sleep like a normal human being.

“There’s only one problem,” She reminded them after the group cheered their success. “We have to convince Wash to accept this.”

The room went quiet.

Donut grinned. “Don’t you worry about that,” He said cheerily, “I think I know just what to do!”


	2. Agent Squeakington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donut talks to both Carolina and Wash. Carolina grumbles a lot, Wash's voice reaches a record high pitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was supposed to be posted last week, but then school happened. A lot of school happened. I extended this chapter to be longer to make up for it.   
> I promise this is not going to be CarWash, despite what Donut believes.   
> I'm the only one who proofreads this, so any remaining mistakes are mine.   
> Enjoy!! =)

Donut knocked on the door to Carolina’s quarters, only ten minutes late to Wash’s meeting. The door was yanked open from the other side and he came face-to-face with a very angry looking Carolina.

“Hi, Carolina!” Donut greeted cheerily, “Do you have a—”

“Where the hell is Wash?” Carolina growled.

Donut coughed. “Yeah. About that.” The pink soldier looked around to make sure no one was near, and stage-whispered, “I need to talk to you!”

Carolina paused for a moment before stepping back and opening her door wider. She slammed it closed after him. “What’s going on, Donut?”

Donut took off his helmet and smiled. “Something important happened!”

“Donut,” Carolina growled.

Donut put his hands on his hips. “Don’t ‘Donut’ me,” he said, “This is actually important. I found Wash asleep in the rec room!”

Carolina’s murderous expression never broke for a second. “And?” She prompted.

Donut sighed in exasperation. “Wash would never fall asleep when he knew he had two meetings!”

Carolina’s brows furrowed. “He missed Kimball’s meeting, too?” She asked, annoyance seeping into her voice. “That’s irresponsible. I’ll have to talk to him.”

Donut blocked the door before she could go anywhere. “Don’t you dare leave, Miss Grumpy!” He waved a finger at her. “I met with Kimball a few minutes ago, and we took a look at his schedule. It was filled completely.”

Carolina crossed her arms. “A full schedule is a good thing around here. Nobody has time to waste, especially Wash.”

Donut shook his head. “He had five minutes set aside for lunch, five more as a break in between afternoon trainings, and three and a half hours set aside to sleep.” Carolina looked stunned. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no words came out, so Donut continued, “He goes on three different runs in the morning; once with you, once with Tucker and Caboose, and once with Sarge and Simmons. He directs every single training that takes place every day. When I found him, he had puffy bags under his eyes and was paler than I remember. He’s worked himself sick.”

Carolina sat down heavily in a chair by her desk. Donut gave her a minute for that to sink in. “I had no idea,” she said slowly, “He always seemed fine. I didn’t even notice he was tired.”

Donut snorted in disbelief. “You didn’t _notice?!_ Have you even _looked_ at him?”

Carolina’s expression started to turn sour again, so he hurried to continue, “Everyone in Armonia asks him for help. He’s got it in his head that he can’t say no. If you try to get a hold of him at any time, he’s always doing something, whether it’s training a group, training himself, or working with Kimball or one of us on something important. You can barely keep an eye on him because he’s bouncing around from person to person, task to task! Anyone with eyes would know he’s super busy, but no one realized the extent of how busy he is!” By the end of his rant, Donut flailed his arms in the air for emphasis.

Carolina looked down, a blush darkening her cheeks. “Alright, I get it. I should have paid more attention.”

Donut nodded, “Yes you should have.” She crossed her arms at his tone, but kept her eyes on the floor. “Have you even talked to him since you got back?” He asked.

She snorted, “Of course I have. You’ve seen us talk plenty of times.”

Donut shook his head. “No, have you _talked_ to him? Have you, you know, told him your feelings for him!”

Carolina’s blush grew. “Donut, I don’t have _feelings_ for Washington!”

Donut rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, you’re the last two Freelancers left alive!” Donut thought Carolina’s blink looked more like a flinch, so he continued, “Like—there’s nothing more romantic than saving each other over and over again! He saved you when we went after the Director, and you saved him when Locus and Felix cornered us!”

“What—how is that romantic at all?” Carolina sputtered, eyes wide.

Donut put his hands on his hips. “I know romance when I see it,” he insisted, “And I’m absolutely, one-hundred percent sure that this is romance!”

Carolina crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Donut, you think it’s romance because Tucker and I have the same armor color.”

Donut sighed dramatically. “And it would have been, too, if Tucker hadn’t ruined it with his horrible pickup lines.”

Carolina rolled her eyes. “It was doomed _long_ before then, Donut.” Donut shook his head sadly. Carolina snorted. “I _will_ talk to Wash, though,” she promised, “An honest-to-god talk. I’ll see if I can figure out _why_ he’s been pushing himself so hard lately. Did you do anything about his schedule?”

Donut nodded. “We changed a lot of things around. Those morning runs are now set for twice a week with each person, with one day for himself. The trainings and other activities that couldn’t be moved to someone else entirely have been staggered to only a few days per week. He has something important to keep him occupied all day, but he’s left with enough time to eat and sleep like a normal human being. The only thing we have to do is tell him about it. And get him to accept it.”

Carolina huffed. “That won’t be easy. I’ll deal with it.”

Donut shook his head. “I will.”

“Donut,” Carolina crossed her arms, “This is mostly my fault—”

“He’s not going to listen to you!” Donut blurted out. “I’m not sure he trusts you. But he trusts me. If anything, he still feels indebted to me. I can work with him.”

Carolina eyed him warily. “You don’t think he trusts me?”

Donut scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Not entirely, no. I mean—it’s not all that hard to pick up on. He tenses up every time you enter the room. Tucker and I tested it once, actually! We got him to totally relax, that one time the three of us were drawing with Caboose.” Carolina winced. “Then you came in. Even before you yelled at us to stop slacking off, he tensed up and stopped smiling.”

“Okay,” Carolina said, “You talk to him. But if it doesn’t work, I want to be the first one to try to set things straight.” Carolina uncrossed her arms and picked up her datapad to write a note.

“I’m not sure things will ever be straight,” Donut lamented.

Carolina blinked. “Ex-excuse me?”

Donut cocked his head to one side. “If I mess up, I’m not sure we’ll ever get him to accept his new schedule.”

Carolina blinked a few more times. “Oh. Right, okay.”

Donut smiled cheerily. “Now, I’ll go and talk to Wash!” The red-haired freelancer waved him off and turned back to her datapad.

 

* * *

 

Donut was surprised to see Wash still curled up and asleep when he opened the door to the rec room again. Usually the Freelancer slept extremely lightly, ready to jump up at a moment’s notice. He wondered if maybe it had something to do with how safe he felt. Behind the thick walls of Armonia, there was little that could reach Wash undetected. On top of that, usually no one other than the reds and blues used this particular rec room.

Donut lowered his supplies quietly onto the counter. He’d brought a small portion of the cheese and crackers, as well as the sparkling cider. He would have brought the wine, but the aim wasn’t to get Wash drunk or tipsy; just to get him to stay relaxed. The rest of the Reds and Blues had agreed to stay away from the rec room so that Donut could work his magic. Bitters and Smith had agreed to watch the other ends of the hallway so that nobody would come near.

After the cheese and crackers had been artfully arranged on a platter, Donut brought it, two glasses, and the cider over to the coffee table near Wash’s feet. He made sure to set them down on the farthest corner away from Wash, just in case the Freelancer was startled as he woke up. He then sat down and _very_ gently rested his arm on Wash’s shoulder.

“Wash,” Donut murmured, “Hey, Wash.” He rubbed his hand up and down Wash’s arm, careful to keep the pressure light. The Freelancer’s eyelids flickered for a moment before popping open wide. Donut smiled. “Hi there!” He greeted cheerily. Wash blinked the sleep away from his eyes and uncurled slightly from his little ball. “It looks like you’re the only one who showed up for my wine and cheese hour!”

Wash blinked uncomprehendingly.

Donut tried very hard not to giggle at the sight. Wash’s hair was mussed from being pressed into the couch at an awkward angle. There were lines on his face from the couch and the blanket, and his cheeks were flushed slightly from the warmth of the blanket.

“But that’s okay!” Donut removed his hand from Wash’s shoulder and scooted the platter over. “I actually wanted to talk to you, if that’s alright.” He poured two glasses of the sparkling cider and slid one over to Wash. He made sure to set the bottle down with the label clearly visible. “Eat up! As much as you want. I can’t swallow this whole load, and no one else is going to show up.”

Wash’s smile looked heartbreakingly grateful. The Freelancer took a bite of a cheese-covered cracker and Donut had to look away—Wash’s eyes fluttered closed in bliss.

After another few bites, Wash asked, “What did you want to talk about?”

Donut took a deep breath before starting. “You missed your meeting with Kimball.” Wash’s eyes widened in alarm, but Donut quickly continued before the Freelancer could move, “It’s okay! I talked to her! I also talked to Carolina. You missed that meeting, too.”

Wash blushed. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’ll go—”

Donut waved a finger in Wash’s face. “Nuh-uh! Oh no you don’t! You are going to sit right there, and eat cheese and crackers, and you are going to _listen_ to me. Got it?”

Wash looked a little stunned, but settled back into the couch and took another cracker with cheese. “Got it,” he said before biting into it.

Donut nodded. “Good.” He took a sip of the sparkling cider. “I’ve noticed recently that you’ve been pretty tired. You nearly fell asleep in the mess hall on Monday. You’re getting slower each day when you train—like, your reaction times aren’t as good. I decided to pay more attention. I noticed that you’re always busy, bouncing off to do this or that. I’d actually been trying to invite you to my wine and cheese hour, and once I tried to grab you to give you a really quick manicure, but you’ve been so busy. So...Kimball and I looked at your schedule.”

Donut waited for that to sink in. Wash’s eyes widened in panic only momentarily, but Donut caught it. When Wash said nothing, he continued. “It was...goodness, Wash. It was full. _Ridiculously_ so. With a little teamwork, we managed to clear your schedule a bit. Instead of doing a whole bunch of tasks every day, you do those same tasks a few times a week. You have more time to do them as well as more time to eat and sleep and, you know, _be human_.”

Wash looked a little panicked. “Donut, I can’t just—I have too much to do!” He shook his head, clearly upset. “Everything in my schedule needs to get done!” Donut winced as Wash’s voice rose steadily in pitch.

Donut sighed mentally. “And it will get done,” he assured Wash, “Just not all at once. You’re still doing the same things. We only removed one or two things entirely. Everything else is just moved around.”

Wash shook his head again, and screeched, “Donut, you can’t—I can’t just _stop_ doing something I need to do!”  

Donut huffed. “That’s why we didn’t remove anything that _only you_ could do!”

Wash sat up straight, cheese and crackers forgotten, and _squeaked_ , “I’m barely making a difference!” Donut did his best not to flinch at the shrillness of Wash’s voice. The Freelancer’s eyes were wide with panic. “We’re barely staying afloat, Donut! I need to do everything I can to keep these people _alive_.”

Donut crossed his arms. “Do you think no one else can do that?”

Wash blinked. “I—well, no, I just...I just...” Wash broke off and looked down, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as his voice deepened to its natural pitch.

“Other people can handle some of your tasks,” Donut promised, “But you’ll still be there to guide them.”

Wash shook his head. “I’ll never forgive myself if we lose.”

“And we’ll never forgive ourselves if you die,” Donut countered.

Wash didn’t even flinch. “That’s not important,” he said.

Donut blinked owlishly for a few seconds. “How can you say that?” He gasped, “Wash, of course that’s important! You’re important to everyone here!” Wash started to shake his head, but Donut cut him off. “Think about everything you do all day. Every person in this city needs you in some way. The soldiers need you to train them. Doyle and Kimball need you to guide them. _We_ need you to lead us. If you die, we lose. So. Instead of running yourself into the ground every day, let’s try to make your schedule productive to everyone _including you_.”

Wash still looked upset when he finally looked back up. “But I—”

Donut shushed him and grabbed his datapad. “Take a look. You’re still going to be busy—much busier than most of us are, but only because you’re more valuable.” Wash flinched slightly at that. “But look. You have more than three hours set aside to sleep. You can spend more than a few minutes eating lunch. Doesn’t that sound a little easier?” When the Freelancer didn’t answer, Donut turned off the tablet and softened his voice. “We were all really worried earlier, when you missed your meeting with Kimball. _Everyone_ knows that you don’t fall asleep just anywhere, and that you’d never fall asleep when you had a meeting. We know you’re exhausted, so we _all_ decided to help you out. This way, you don’t have to run yourself into the ground every day.”

When Wash finally looked up at him, his eyes were a little wet. “Thanks, Donut,” he said, “I’ll try this out.”

Donut beamed. “Thank you!” He shoved the platter of cheese and crackers towards Wash again. “Open wide and swallow all you can!” Wash blushed, but began to devour the contents of the platter. Donut hid his grin as he sipped his drink. He’d call that a success!

He just hoped Carolina’s talk with Wash would play out this well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi! http://narassiwrites.tumblr.com/


	3. Agent Snarkington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carolina has a much-needed talk with Wash. Carolina's goal: get Wash to sleep for more than three hours. Wash's goal: he's actually too tired to come up with a goal here but he knows that he doesn't want to sleep, so there's that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took way too long to come up with. I know it's very late, and I'm sorry. There should be one or two more chapters left!  
> Enjoy! =)

Carolina watched Wash train from the doorway to the room that served as Armonia’s training room. His routine was rather strenuous, she noted. Certainly too strenuous for the amount of sleep he’d been getting for the past few weeks.

She’d kept a close eye on him ever since her talk with Donut. Epsilon had even agreed to help her monitor him from afar. Three days later, Wash seemed just as worn down as he had before. Epsilon’s data suggested that Wash hadn’t gotten more than three hours of sleep each night, even though his schedule set aside eight hours for him to sleep. He seemed restless and exhausted at the same time. He should be heading to bed now, she noted. It was getting late, and well after his last training time. She couldn’t remember if he had anything scheduled for this time of night.

Carolina frowned when Wash collapsed in the middle of doing pushups. Time to intervene, she thought.

“Strain your wrist a little, there?” She asked, finally stepping into the room.

Wash startled up from his place on the floor. “Uh, yeah.” He shook his wrist unconvincingly. “Yeah.”

She frowned again, coming up to stand in front of him. Out of armor, he looked even more exhausted up close. “I wanted to talk to you, if you have the time.”

“I—” He started, and then frowned. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”

Carolina jerked her head in the direction of the door. “Can we talk in your room? It’s a little quieter there.”

Wash gave her an odd look at that but nodded. “I guess so.”

The walk back to his room was quiet. Wash didn’t even try to fill the silence with his chatter the way he used to. It made Carolina’s heart ache a little. She hardly knew the Wash that trailed behind her. He was still _Wash_ , but he was so different from who he was during the Project. She’d never forgive her father for hurting him, she thought bitterly.

When they reached his room he closed the door behind them softly. She sat on the edge of his bed and patted the empty space next to her. He sat down and warily regarded her.

“So what’s wrong?” He asked.

Carolina shrugged. “I don’t know. How ‘bout _you_ tell _me_?”

He blinked at her. “What?”

She frowned. “You collapsed from exhaustion in the training room, Wash.” He started to protest so she cut him off, “You did. I saw the whole thing. I’m not angry, I’m just asking. _What’s wrong?_ ”

Wash opened and closed his mouth several times before heaving a sigh. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and tug his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Epsilon logged off,” she told him, “He’s not here. It’s just you and me, Wash. Talk to me.” Wash remained silent. She sighed. “Alright. Why did you fill your schedule so much?”

Wash shrugged. “Everything needed to get done.”

She frowned. “I refuse to believe you’ve forgotten how to manage your time. Why did you let it get so full?”

Wash was silent for a while. “People kept asking me to help them or spend time working with them. I—I couldn’t say no.”

“You could have shifted so many things to different days.” She pointed out.

He shrugged. “It wasn’t all that bad.”

Carolina huffed, exasperated. “You went on three different runs _every day!_ How is that not ‘all that bad’?”

He tensed and shifted away from her. “I’m sorry.”

Carolina froze. “You don’t need to be sorry,” she said slowly, “I’m just worried. You were pushing yourself too hard. You don’t _need_ to.” Wash didn’t say anything to that. “What about the training room back there?” She asked.

He shrugged. “I tweaked my wrist.” He began to tug harder on his hair.

“You’re an awful liar.” She smiled and rested a hand on the small of his back. “Hey.” She pulled his hands out of his hair. “Don’t rip that out.” He looked up at her. He looked awful up close. His face was pale, paler than even a helmet-clad space marine would normally look. Deep, dark rings swelled below his eyes. “You don’t look so good.”

“Thanks,” he deadpanned.

Carolina snorted in disbelief. “Well, at least that still works.” A corner of his lips quirked upwards ever so slightly. She regarded him for a moment before continuing. “Does it have anything to do with how little you’ve been sleeping lately?”

Wash flinched like she’d punched him. He jerked away from her touch, his eyes flew wide open, and he stared at her as he grasped for words. “I—what—who told you that?”

Carolina reached for him again and settled one hand on his back, the other on his knee. “Well, a few people. Donut told me about it the day you fell asleep in the rec room.”

He winced. “Sorry about that.” He looked down at the hand she rested on his knee.

She shook her head. “I told you, you don’t need to be sorry. Kimball told me, too. She asked me to make sure you stayed with your new schedule. I also asked Epsilon to help me keep an eye on you to see if you got any better. _Wash_.” She waited for him to look back up at her. “You haven’t gotten any better. You actually look worse than you did three days ago. What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep,” he whispered.

Carolina blinked. “What?”

Wash looked back down at her hand on his knee. “I can’t sleep.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but he went quiet. “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I—” He hesitated, so she squeezed his knee in silent support. “I have nightmares,” he admitted.

Her eyes softened. Oh. That certainly explained a lot. “About what?”

He shrugged. “People dying.”

“Anyone in particular?” She scooted closer to him.

He nodded. “It’s—it’s usually—them. The—the Freelancers.” She rubbed the hand on his back up and down soothingly. “Sometimes the reds and blues. Sometimes—now sometimes the soldiers here. Mostly—mostly the Freelancers, though.”

“Are they ever about anything else?” She asked.   

Wash hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. I—sometimes I—I dream about. About Epsilon. That’s usually it, though.”

She squeezed his knee again. “How often do you have these nightmares?”

“Every night.”

She frowned. “Every night?”

“All night.”

Carolina winced in sympathy. “So you filled your schedule to include activities all day so you wouldn’t have to sleep too long. And you made your days strenuous so that you’d be too exhausted to do anything but sleep every night.”

Wash nodded. “Yeah.”

She scooted close enough that her hip rested against his. “Wash. You could have asked anyone for help.” He shook his head. “Yes, you could have. Dr. Grey would have happily helped you. Even if you just needed to talk to her, she’d listen.”

He shook his head again. “Dr. Grey is busy enough already.”

“Did she tell you that?” She asked.

Wash hesitated. “I—no.”

“Have you asked her about it?” She pressed.

Wash shook his head. “No.”

“Will you talk to her about it? Please? She won’t be able to magically fix it, but she might be able to help.”

She let him think about it for a while. She kept rubbing her hand up and down his back, and rubbed her other thumb along his knee. Finally, he nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

Carolina smiled as he looked up at her. “Thank you.” She said.  

He shrugged. “If it helps...” He trailed off uncertainly.

“Now. I have a temporary solution.” He blinked at her and raised a brow. “Go get ready for bed. I’ll be here when you’re done.” He nodded and stood up to get ready. Carolina pulled out her datapad to keep her attention away from him. She cancelled everything he had scheduled early in the morning and wrote a note to Kimball and Donut to let them know. She set it down a little while later when he sat on the bed next to her, freshly showered and dressed in a T-shirt and sleep pants. She smiled softly. “Ready to try to sleep?” She asked.

Wash took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll try. What did you have in mind?”

Carolina stood up and gestured to the bed. “Lay down.” He did as he was told and settled gingerly into his bed. She rolled her eyes at him. “Get comfy. And scoot over.”

“Scoot over?” He asked, bewildered. Carolina fought to keep the grin off her face as he scooted over towards the wall. “Better?”

She nodded. “I need you to do one last thing.”

Wash’s brows furrowed. “What’s that?”

“I need you to trust me.” Wash looked at her warily. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just trust me, okay?”

Wash nodded slowly. “Okay. Just. What are you doing?”

Carolina smiled again and lifted the corner of the blanket closest to her. “I’m just going to sit with you and see if it helps.” She began to climb in the too-small bed with him.

“Sit with me.” He deadpanned.

“Yes.” She settled halfway on her side and reached for him. “Come here.” After a moment of hesitation, he let her shift him where she wanted. She ended up flat on her back with his head tucked under her chin, one of his arms flung across her stomach, and his legs tangled with hers. She wrapped her arms around him and he gradually relaxed and melted into her. “I’ll stay here all night. I’ll wake you up if I notice you having a nightmare, and if you wake up before then, I’ll do whatever I can to get you back to sleep. Alright?”

He nodded slowly. “If Tucker sees this—”

“If Tucker says anything I will kick him in the dick.” She said firmly. “Don’t worry about him, or about Donut.”

Wash huffed what may have been a laugh. “Donut?”

Carolina rolled her eyes. “He insisted I talk about my feelings for you.”

Wash outright snorted, his breath tickling her neck. “Feelings,” he repeated.

“Apparently the fact that we’re both Freelancers means that we’re romantically involved. Or should be.” She said dryly.

She felt him smirk against her collarbone. “Right,” he said, “Perfect logic, there.” He snarked.

She hummed in agreement. “Go to sleep, Wash.”

He grunted softly. “Thanks, Carolina.”

She squeezed him gently. “You’re welcome.”

Carolina stayed awake to make sure he actually fell asleep. She listened to his breathing even out bit by bit. He snored, she discovered. Little, delicate snores filled the room, so different from York’s loud, open-mouthed snores. It was gentle. Peaceful, even.

She hadn’t realized until tonight how much she’d missed Wash’s friendship. They’d truly lost each other, even before the Mother of Invention crashed. She’d been so focused on beating Tex that she hadn’t stopped to pay attention to any of her friends. After the ship crashed, she’d thought he was gone for good. Even after she’d found him, years later, she hadn’t taken the time to reconnect with him.

Carolina sighed sadly. She’d made a huge mistake by not talking to him until now. He might have been able to heal better, she realized, if she’d just talked to him every so often. She pressed a kiss into his hair.

“I’ll do better,” she whispered, “I promise.”

She tugged him even closer, and fell asleep to the thought of regaining her friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me on tumblr! narassiwrites.tumblr.com


	4. Agent Sleepington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash...actually appears to be getting some decent sleep for once. 
> 
> Thanks to Donut's and Carolina's efforts, as well as copious amounts of sugar, Wash actually might be a functional human being again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last!!! The final chapter!!!
> 
> I apologize for the loooooooooong delay between chapters. My writing schedule is sporadic and writer's block is a bitch. But here it is! It's a little shorter than I anticipated, but I'm happy with it nonetheless. 
> 
> Enjoy! =)

Donut eyed Wash critically from across the rec room. The Freelancer was in a position not unlike the one Donut had found him in two weeks prior, but with one difference.

Carolina was there with him.

She sat cross-legged on the couch, a pillow on top of her legs, and Wash’s face smooshed partly into the pillow. Wash was curled up facing away from her, giving Donut a perfect view of the peaceful look on the half of his face that he could see. The dark circles under his eyes were still there, but they had lessened somewhat. His hair looked damp, like he had come to the rec room straight from a shower. A blanket had been thrown over him and he was not far from becoming a Freelancer burrito with the way he’d obviously rolled in it.

Carolina, for her part, was engrossed in something she was reading on her datapad. She had nodded to Donut when he’d entered the room, but otherwise paid no attention to her surroundings. Except—Donut grinned impishly—her hand was in Wash’s hair, absentmindedly combing through the strands.

Donut hummed happily and took his armful of groceries into the kitchen. He stocked the pantry and fridge and pulled out the thick recipe book he and Doc had put together once, a long time ago. He flipped to the baking section. Might as well do something with the three bags of sugar he’d scored.

 

* * *

 

When Donut emerged from the kitchen with a fresh batch of cookies, Carolina was absent, but Wash still slept with the pillow tucked under his head, and the blanket now fully wrapped around him. Donut stifled a giggle at the sight. After deliberating for a moment, he set the tray of cookies down on the coffee table with a _little_ more force than was strictly necessary, just enough to wake up the older man.

Instead of startling awake, however, Wash’s eyes opened blearily and slowly looked around. His eyes settled on Donut for a moment before looking down at the tray still in Donut’s hand. That seemed to wake him up a little more. Wash’s eyes widened a bit, and he sat up partially before looking down at himself.

Donut chuckled warmly. “Need help getting out of that?” He asked.

Wash shook his head. “Just give me a minute.” Donut rolled his eyes, but watched as Wash attempted to extract himself from his cocoon. Surprisingly, the Freelancer only freed an arm. “May I have one?”

Donut inched the tray close enough that Wash could snatch a cookie. “Careful, this load’s _pretty_ hot!”

Wash choked on his first bite.

Donut frowned. “I tweaked the recipe a little bit, do you think they’re still okay?” Donut asked.

Wash gave him a bland look, and Donut threw his head back and laughed. Wash had already managed to stuff the entirety of the cookie in his mouth, cheeks bulging comically. Instead of responding verbally, the Freelancer gave him a thumbs-up and reached for a second cookie.

Donut rolled his eyes. “I’ll go get you something to help you swallow all that down with!” Donut heard more mild choking noises behind him when he turned to go into the kitchen, but he attributed it to the amount of cookie Wash had in his mouth.

He brought out glasses of water for them both, silently bemoaning how hard it was to come by milk in an active war zone. Wash made an appreciative noise and gulped at his. Donut sat on the couch by Wash’s feet.

“So,” Donut began, “you seem to be feeling much better.” Wash hummed noncommittally. “You’re actually taking a break for once. I’m a little surprised.”

Wash’s cheeks flushed. “Carolina dragged me here after my last training for the day.”

Ah. So that was why Carolina had been with him earlier. “Does that mean you guys finally admitted your feelings?” Donut asked.

Wash flushed further. “What—no! There’s no—we don’t have feelings for each other!” He spluttered. “No, we…we talked, though. She—we’re good now.”

Donut hummed. “I’m glad to hear that. Are you sleeping better?”

Wash paused, seeming to collect his words. “I’m sleeping more,” he said slowly, “though I’m not sure about _better_. I, uh. I. Dream. A lot.”

Donut winced in sympathy. “Have you told Dr. Grey about this?” He asked.

Wash’s lack of answer spoke for him.

Donut sighed. “Dr. Grey has been nothing but nice to you, Wash. She’s not going to make fun of you or hurt you!”

Wash fidgeted with a corner of the blanket. “I know that. I just…” The Freelancer trailed off.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Donut asked. Wash looked down and shrugged. “Come on. Grab another cookie and we’ll go see Dr. Grey.”

Wash sighed heavily, but extracted himself fully from his burrito. “Thanks, Donut.” When the Freelancer moved towards the door, Donut cleared his throat and pointed towards the tray. Wash rolled his eyes, but grabbed yet another cookie. “These taste great.”

Donut flashed him a grin. Honestly, he was a little surprised at how quickly Wash had agreed to go see Dr. Grey with him. Usually, the Freelancer was downright stubborn when it came to things like this. Getting him to accept the new schedule was a nightmare of its own. Donut wondered if maybe Carolina had already talked to him about talking to Dr. Grey.

Wash walked slower the moment the hospital came into sight, so Donut began telling him about the next few baking recipes he wanted to try out. The chatter seemed to ease Wash and put his focus somewhere other than the hospital. They came into Dr. Grey’s office just as he finished lecturing on the different ways to make frosting, and how their supplies limited his ability to make said frosting.

Dr. Grey sat at her desk reading what looked like inventory reports, with her helmet on the desk. She beamed up at them when they entered the room.

“Why hello there!” She greeted, “What can I do for you two?”

Donut put a hand on Wash’s shoulder. “Wash wanted to talk to you, but was a teensy bit nervous, so I offered to go with him.” Donut traded a frown with Dr. Grey when Wash rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

“That was sweet of you!” Dr. Grey stood up and walked around her desk. “I think I can handle things from here. Wash and I will have a nice and easy chat, and then we’ll be all done!”

Wash’s shoulders seemed to relax at that, so Donut took that as his cue to leave. “I’ll be in the rec room when you’re done, okay Wash?”

The Freelancer nodded. “Okay. Thanks, for…for walking with me.”

Donut grinned. “Any time!”

Donut left the room, noting that Dr. Grey sat in the chair next to Wash, rather than across the desk from him. He closed the door to the office and made his way back to the rec room. Carolina fell into step beside him as soon as he left the hospital.

“However you managed to convince him to go see her, thank you.” She said.

Donut shrugged. “He seems to listen to me.”

Carolina nodded. “He does. I’m glad he has you to look out for him. Do you think he’ll be okay in there?”

“Dr. Grey seemed to realize what was going on. She took control right away, which made him seem a lot less nervous.” He told her.

Carolina sighed. “I’m glad.”

They walked in silence for all of ten seconds before Donut caught her inching away towards the training room. He grabbed her arm. “I made cookies, but I tweaked the recipe. I asked Wash what he thought of them, but I swear the man will eat _anything_ with sugar in it! I need you to tell me what you think of them!” He said.

 Carolina looked like she was going to protest, but Donut pulled her along towards the building that housed their rec room. “Couldn’t you ask Grif?” Carolina asked, but she made no move to break his grip or move towards the training room, so Donut counted it as a win.

“Grif eats things so quickly he can’t even _taste_ them,” he complained. “I need an honest opinion.” Carolina rolled her eyes, but walked with him.

She didn’t even leave after she’d tasted the cookies (“They taste fine, Donut!”), or when the rec room began to fill up. He lost track of her when he left to bake another batch, which turned into two batches and then three, but when he came out of the kitchen with the third, Wash was there again. Both Freelancers sat curled together on the loveseat, eyes flying back and forth between Grif and Tucker as they argued.

Donut set the cookies on the coffee table, grinning when Wash lunged forward to take another two.

“Oh, Donut,” Wash motioned him over, “I have a question.”

Donut hummed, and Wash fished out his datapad. Donut kneeled next to him so that he could see.

“I, uh. I was told by Kimball that I have to ask you for permission to add anything to my schedule.” Wash looked a little sheepish. “Does this look okay to you?”

Donut took the datapad and looked. There was a new block on Tuesdays and Thursdays, after his last training and before dinner, labelled ‘Talk with Dr. Grey.’ Donut beamed. “That looks fine to me, as long as you have enough time to clean up after training and then eat dinner!”

Wash nodded. “Carolina agreed to clean up the training room for me so that I can shower.”

“Then that looks fine to me. I’m glad you decided to talk with her.” Donut patted his arm.

Wash took his datapad back, tapping the button to save the schedule. “Thanks for walking with me.”

Donut grinned. “I’m glad I could take you!” Wash flushed brilliantly, and Tucker muttered something behind him. He patted his arm again and stood. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“So!” Donut clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “What do you guys prefer, chocolate chip or these sugar cookies?” He asked.

The tiny rec room filled with the sounds of arguing—mainly between Grif and Wash. Donut cackled and backed out of the fray, happy to listen and watch his friends yell at each other over cookies. The argument would later go down as the second most heated argument ever (of all time) between them, second only to waffles versus pancakes. Donut just beamed. If Wash was well enough to yell and screech about cookies, then the Freelancer was fine, or would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come visit me on tumblr! I no longer have a strictly writing-only blog, but if you would like me to move my fics to a sideblog, just let me know =)
> 
> agentfrecklelancer.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more!
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr! agentfrecklelancer.tumblr.com


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